Page 85 of Trustfall

“I meant what I said. You are one of the strongest people I have ever met. You are kind and beautiful and smart as fuck. You deserve everything. You are worthy of…everything.”

My heart skips a beat. Was he going to say love?

“I don’t want a day to go by when you don’t know that. Do you understand me?”

I nod my head, but do I believe him? I guess only time will tell.

“I’m a mess,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“I want your mess. All of it. Just like the song. I want your good days and your bad days. I want to push you to open up when you're shutting down, and I want you to get mad at me when I’m being a smug asshole. I want your smiles. Your tears. Your laughter. I want to hear about your tough days at work, and I want you to be by my side when I finally work up the courage to call my dad. I'm not perfect either. I get possessive when you talk to other guys, not because I'm a jealous person, but because you drive me fucking crazy.”

I choke out a laugh as the tears continue to stream down my face. Luke wipes one away with his thumb.

“I’ll try my hardest not to act on it,” he continues. “Whenever you decide to give me your trust, I’ll guard it with my fucking life.”

I nod my head. “Don’t break my heart, okay?”

“Never. You’re mine, Emory Caldwell. And I’m yours. Nothing is going to change that. And Nate can go fuck himself if?—”

“I don’t want to talk about Nate. I don’t want to talk about anything anymore. I just…take me to bed, Luke.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I say simply, because in this moment I’ve never been more sure of anything. I told him my deepest, darkest secrets and he’s still here. He didn’t run away in horror. He didn’t judge me. He’s just here. And I need him.

Luke leans down and puts his hands under my ass, lifting me off the couch. He brings me to his room and places me on the bed, gently parting my knees.

“I was angry with you earlier. I was going to tease the shit out of you for ditching me,” he says, pulling my panties down. “But I’d be punishing myself if I did that. I can’t wait another second.”

“Please, Luke. I need to feel you.”

“I love the way you beg so sweetly, baby. God, I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

“How obsessed?” I tease.

“You want me to show you?”

I nod slowly, not taking my eyes off him for a second.

So he does. He shows me how obsessed with me he is for hours, until I can barely feel my legs. Until sweat beads along my collarbone and my hair sticks to my back. Until I pass out from pure exhaustion.

Relaxed and sated and so fucking gone for this man.

29

LUKE

I listen to her soft,rhythmic breathing and watch the rise and fall of her chest. I’ve been watching Emory sleep for the past thirty minutes, and as much as I know I need to, I can’t seem to rip my eyes away from her, as much as I know I have to. I look over at the clock. It’s two in the morning. Fuck. This needs to happen now.

Words cannot describe the blind rage that curdled my guts and splintered my bones as Emory told me about what that asshole did to her. The manipulation. The emotional abuse. He destroyed her. Made her think she wasn’t worthy of love. He doesn’t deserve to take another goddamn breath in her vicinity. Or at all…

I’m not a killer. I wish I were. That would make this so much simpler. Still, I have to make sure he never has any contact with her again.

I move over Emory, careful not to disturb her, and take her phone from the bedside table, swiping it open. I shake my head. I’ve been telling her for weeks she should have a passcode, but she keeps saying it takes her longer when she needs to send a quick text or look up something when she’s super busy at work. She says it doesn’t matter because all her important information, like passwords and saved credit cards, is protected with facial recognition. It worked out for me in this situation, but I still don’t like it. I make a mental note to insist she put a password on her phone tomorrow. It takes me a few minutes, but I find what I’m looking for and shoot off a text. I’m not all that surprised when I get an immediate response. She’s going to hate me, but I have to do this. I reply and put her phone back on the table, plugging it into the charger cable hanging off the side. Then I slide out of the bed, careful to avoid waking her. I throw on some clothes and step into my boots, then grab my helmet on the way out. I risk waking her by taking my bike, but I need the adrenaline and the wind in my face to clear my head. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.

I hop onto my bike, start it up, and peel off into the night. The ride does calm me, and by the time I pull up to the beach park, I’m ready. I see him leaning against a black Jaguar coupe, flask in hand, taking a swig. He’s staring at his phone, but he looks up when he hears me approaching. I chose this spot—a local late-night hangout for high school kids near the beach on the border of Emberfield and Baybridge. It's off the beaten path but not totally secluded. There are a few bonfires going, and I can hear the whoops and hollers of teenagers drinking and laughing in the distance. Nate and I used to host bonfires here almost every summer weekend in high school.

I take my helmet off and toss it on the seat of my bike. Jaxon immediately stiffens, pushing off his car and standing to his full height when he sees my face. At first, he looks like he’s about to make a run for it, but then he takes a step toward me.

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